


physically, you're fine

by Radio Rascal (Vagrants)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, decepticons awkwardly trying to be emotionally supportive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 05:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrants/pseuds/Radio%20Rascal
Summary: Soundwave loses his voice, among other things.





	physically, you're fine

**Author's Note:**

> i just finished bingeing season two of Prime and i had to write something about my favorite character

Knock Out raised his quizzical expression from the data screen to look at Soundwave. “Physically, you’re fine. Nothing’s loose or damaged. In fact, of all my patients, you’re in the best health.” He frowned. “So why can’t you  _ speak _ ?”

It started earlier today, after Soundwave returned from a mission. Since then, he hadn’t spoken a word; though he’d sustained several injuries, he had already been to the medical bay, so his condition appeared to be without reason. When Megatron grew impatient with his persistent silence, he was ordered to see Knock Out again. 

Soundwave silently stared at the medic, possessing no motivation to share what was inside his mind. The medic hummed thoughtfully and returned to the readout, tapping here and there, trying to make sense of his patient.

“If my instruments aren’t returning anything,” Knock out started, “then it’s possible the damage is deeper, perhaps in the neural net. I can take you offline and open you up to check.” There was something in his lofty tone, something that sounded like lines being tested.

“In fact, if I report no outward signs of injury to Lord Megatron, he will almost certainly order such a surgery. And if that presented no answer…then a cortical patch would at least show us what caused the damage.”

Soundwave shuddered. This was Knock Out’s harsh, awkward way of reaching out to a fellow Decepticon who was obviously troubled. He could have been gentler about it—better, he could have not tried at all. If he knew Soundwave was hiding something, he had to know there was a reason.

As difficult as it was to open up, he had no choice, if the medic was going to be persistent. He found a recording in his processor and played it on his mask—without sound, and only after he squeezed his optics shut so he wouldn’t see the faintest reflection.

“Ah, I see,” Knock Out said once the recording was over. “So it’s psychosomatic.”

Soundwave opened his optics and fixed his gaze upon the ceiling. He was angry with Knock Out, but it was a defensive anger, as he worried about Megatron making the same connection between his muteness and the loss of his cassettes. If Megatron knew the depth of his grief, that he was grieving for them at all, he might be withheld from duty. Megatron might start losing faith in him. This, Soundwave couldn’t allow.

“It appears your voice box and surrounding components were burned,” Knock Out said, typing at the screen. “This escaped my attention due to the subtlety of the injury. I do not possess the means to fix you at the moment, so you’re just going to have to deal with being mute for a while. Maybe a long while.”

For a moment, he was stunned. He stood up from the table and gave the medic a short bow, as surprised at the strength of his gratitude as anything else.

“I’m no therapist, so don’t think you’re getting any professonal help. But nobody has to know what you’re going through if you don’t want them to know. Now go rest. Maybe it’ll clear up with a good recharge.”

He was almost at the door when a cough from Knock Out stopped him. “And, uh, Soundwave? I’m...I’m sorry.”

Nothing was fixed, so technically Knock Out had failed, but Soundwave still felt better as he left the medical bay.

* * *

Soundwave returned to his room, not of his volition—Knock Out had ordered rest, and Megatron, valuing his third-in-command too much to risk pushing him beyond his limits, had to acquiesce. Though he knew he needed the rest, he feared what he would see when he shut his optics.

The room was unchanged. Soundwave stepped inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. Air occupied the spaces where once there had been bodies, silence where there were voices, stillness where there was movement. It looked emptier, this room, but really it was full of foreign things.

Laserbeak was waiting for him on a miniaturized berth, nursing her injuries. He had nearly lost her as well, and it was only because of their proximity that she survived—he’d shielded her at a critical moment, a courtesy he couldn’t extend to the others. Walking over to her side, he lifted a hand and ran his claws down her wings, for her comfort and his own.

The tightness in his neck, the one that constricted around his voice box when he tried to speak, loosened. He let out a crackly sigh to test it.

“Knock Out: aware of situation,” he said in a thready, flat voice. “Megatron: is not.” On their way back to base, Soundwave had been able to speak to her like this. It wasn’t until he was among his peers that his voice disappeared. He didn’t care about why.

Laserbeak nuzzled into his hand, thrumming softly. She felt the same pain as him, echoing his grief like a mirror. As Soundwave observed her, his spark prickled with fear—he didn’t care if his mission was a success, today had been a disaster. She was all he had left. Suppose something like today happened  _ again _ ? What if she wasn’t near him when the next shot was fired?

“Laserbeak: unsafe. Soundwave: has suggestion.”

She radiated curiosity as he picked her up. Curiosity percolated into puzzlement as Soundwave pressed her to his chest, her tiny spark burning against his own.

“Laserbeak: stays here. Safety: not guaranteed, but greater.”

Her wings twitched, indicating her understanding. The modifcations needed would be relatively minor, and she could hold onto him when her surveillance abilities weren’t needed, allowing him to better defend her.

Soundwave crossed his arms around her. A painful shudder went through him, right down to his spark. Laserbeak echoed his sorrow, beeping at him in comforting tones.

“Soundwave: grieves,” he said. “Grief: does not extend to Laserbeak. Thankful. Thankful.” The shudder became a tremor, and his grip tightened around his remaining cassette. He still had her, and she would always have him.

**Author's Note:**

> soundwave: sir that's my emotional support attack drone


End file.
